


5(ish) Worlds Where Logan Echolls isn't Logan Echolls (Sort of)

by Louzeyre



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, F/M, LV AU WEEK
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-14 05:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18046607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louzeyre/pseuds/Louzeyre
Summary: Snippets of 5 (ish) Alternate Realities each populated by a man not quite known as Logan Echolls. Sometimes.





	1. Captain Lag Echoes

This was all her fault.

 

No. Scratch that. This was the Kane’s fault. 

 

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder. Maybe if she hadn’t taken the warrant without questioning why someone was paying so much for what should have been a milk run. Maybe if she hadn’t convinced Lag to help her. Maybe if she had just finished the job rather than try to pull a rescue. Maybe then she wouldn’t be standing here watching helplessly as the just-gotten-back-together-possible-love-of-her-life was about to be dragged away to undergo some sort of experimental stasis process. Maybe.

 

“Hey, its okay. You’re going to be okay.” Lag said in an annoyingly calm and reassuring voice. 

 

“This is okay Lag! None of this is okay!” Apparently, she had regressed to their teen years. It seemed sort of fitting.

 

But Lag didn’t reciprocate her panic. Instead he reached out, as if to tuck her hair behind her ear. It was a comforting move he’d done hundreds times during their brief bouts of happiness as a couple. This time it was somewhat counterproductive as it turned out the shackles currently around his wrist didn’t allow him to reach all the way to finish the motion. 

 

He let his arms to fall back down again. 

 

Then he smirked.

 

“Lag.” She huffed.

 

“Veronica Mars is smarter than company goon, no matter what his title or supposed species. You’ll find a way to get fix this.” Wasn’t trying to fix things how they’d gotten into this mess?

 

“And if I don’t?” He Shrugged.

 

“I’ve always had a thing for older women. I’ll just become your boy toy in 50 years when they decide frozen enemies have become passé as a lawn decoration and want to free up some space.” 

 

It was ridiculous and irrational and cockily flippant. 

 

She launched herself at him and pulled him into a kiss so deep that it took henchman several tries to pry them apart. 

 

The largest of the lackies herded Lag down into the weird machine, securing his restraint inside then moving out of the way as fast as they could. Veronica strained to reach the edge of platform above. She did not want to possibly see Lag die, but she was even more unwilling to give up the what might be the last few seconds she had with him because of squeamishness. 

 

“Lag?” He looked up at her expectantly.

 

“Come back to me?” Lag smirked again, but softer. Almost sentimental.

 

“Always.”


	2. Blue Beacon

He tastes like stars.

 

Alright. So, she doesn’t actually know if stars have a taste, or what that taste might be. And she sure as heck hopes he doesn’t get close enough to any stars to pick of their flavor but that’s the one thing her lust and adrenaline addled brain has been able to come up with to describe the odd mix of ozone and something undefinable that’s been added to his flavor palate since his plane was forced to land near that freaking alien crash site and started having to making regular trips across the universe to the Beacon’s home planet across the galaxy to police his section. 

 

And she had thought skyping while he was on deployment was frustrating. 

 

But they were together now. They were together, and they’d just saved the world, and the universe had rewarded her by having Blue do that things with his hands and his tongue that made her almost wish she had opted for a less practical version of her costume this apocalypse, so she wouldn’t have figure out a way to wriggle out of latex and Kevlar gracefully in order to move beyond a bit of heavy petting. 

 

Blue lifted her up, holding her so they could face each other, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. After a few minutes he half-walked, half stumbled forward until the back of her legs hit the edge of the bathroom counter, sitting her on top so he could readjust his hands without having to stop the ministrations of his tongue. And then ---

 

Oh. 

 

Oh.

 

She suddenly really, really needed to get rid some of the layers between them. Reaching up she tried to pull away his uniform, only to realized that the aura/willpower produced unitard he was wearing didn’t have any zippers or button or fabric to satisfactorily rip open.

 

Logan pulled back slightly. For a moment she thought he had realized her dilemma, but instead of disrobing he let out a sigh and dropped his head so his forehead rested on hers. 

 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

 

“Don’t you think this is a little weird?”

 

“That your uniform doesn’t have a single fastener on it? Yes, its weird. Very weird. You probably should take it off right away.”

 

“Ver---”

 

“No real names while we’re in uniform.” She warned him.

 

“That. That’s what I meant was weird. We’re nearly thirty year old, superheroes Ver—” she gave him a warning look, “Nighthawk and we’re making out bathroom like a couple of teenagers.”

 

“You were the one who pointed out that if we dated as both our civilian and superhero personas it would make it a lot more likely that both our identities could be discovered.” 

 

“I meant in public, not here, with our friends. We’re in the Supershard Nighthawk!”

 

“The Super Society are colleagues, not friends. They don’t even know our civilian identities.” She pointed out, now feeling more than a little annoyed. Blue Beacon pulled even further back and gave her a disbelieving look.

 

“Are you honestly going to tell me you don’t know every single one of the Society members identities and backstories?” 

 

“That’s different. I’m a detective. My implicit role within the Society is to know everything about the members so that if one of the superpowered people go crazy and start killing people we can stop them.”

 

“Okay, I’m going to put aside that oddly both reassuring and disturbing thought for latter. Do you really think the rest of the Society hasn’t figured out who we are? 

 

“Well, I don’t see how…”

 

“Wallace Wood.” 

 

“Who?” She said innocently. She was moving past annoyed and towards mad. Not mad enough not to want a to continue the make-up session if they had time, but still. Mad-ish.

 

“Wallace Wood,” He continued “high school science teacher who, after being doused in a bunch of chemically that, quite frankly, I’m slightly terrified a bunch of teenagers had access to, and being hit by a serendipitous bolt of lightning was transformed into fastest man alive. who can also shoot out bolts of electricity for some reason.” He looked thoughtful a second. “Although I guess that actually makes more sense than the speed thing.”

 

“Your digressing.”

 

“Right. Wallace Wood. The Bolt. Who is also one of your closest friends?” He looked at her expectantly.

 

“Alright. Wallace probably does know who I am.” He continued to look at her expectantly. “But that doesn’t mean that the rest of the Society does, or that letting them know couldn’t be dangerous. You know how often one of us gets mind controlled or mind melded or switches bodies.” Loga--- Blue Beacon let out a sigh.

 

“What about your ex-boyfriend, Duncan Kane.” Now she just glared at him. “Billionare playboy whose father tried an experimental epilepsy treatment on him as a teenager that made it so he became a superpowered being of pure rage whenever he got angry. Or excited. Or really demonstrated any emotion whatsoever. You know now that I say that out loud I’m sort of wondering why we have him in the Society since that seemed less like a superhero than a potentially dangerous situation made flesh.”

 

“If we tell him a member of an alien invasion insulted his manhood or is have sex with one of his ex’s, he will take out the entire army, then fall asleep. Which, that is also one of the reasons not to tell the rest of the Society we’re dating. I like your pretty face just the shape it is.” 

 

“Except you dated in your civilian identity. And we went to his company Christmas party last year as a couple.”

 

“I’m pretty sure he convinced himself we went as just friends.” She confessed. Logan, rolled his eyes. 

 

“How about Cindy MacKenzie, computer hacker and technopath who acts as the Society’s remote eyes on missions as the Lookout. Also, one of your closest friends.”

 

“Yes, Mac does know our identities. But again, its pretty much implicit in her role in the Society.”

 

“Dick Casablancas AKA Neptune, the descendant of a minor sea god worshipped only in the small Italian village his family is from who accidently became the genius loci for all of Sea City simply by embodying its messed-up values. Who was also my college roommate.” 

 

“I never did understand how you dealt with that fishy smell for four years.” Then added “Also, really? You think Dick has figured out our identities?”

 

“Probably not.” He admitted with a shrug. “But he’s also not going to have any better chance of figuring it out if he knows we’re dating.” She had to agree that was probably true.

 

“Then of course there’s Eli Navarro, known as the Weevil, former gang leader who after being attacked by and inadvertently bonding with a magical amulet on a school fieldtrip decided to use his new-found powers of super strength and vision, flight and the ability to produce some sort of indeterminate sticky goop to protect and seek justice for those left vulnerable, exploited or ignored by the powerful and rich that run Sea City.”

 

“Okay. Now you’re just having fun listing everyone’s superhero origin story like the beginning of a CW Show.” 

 

“And, who used to work for your father and is also one of your friends.” He added. 

 

“And then there’s Psychopomp, the daughter of a human man and a member of a superpowered alien race one revered as gods whose civilian identity happens to be Jackie Cook, Wallace’s ex-girlfriend.” At this point she simply gave a resigned sigh and finished the roll call on her own. 

 

“And Parker Lee, AKA Siren, who after enduring what is unfortunately still the most common origin story for female superheroes learned to use her body and recently awakened super-voice as a weapon to protect other. And Who you dated in college.” She was now no longer sure whether she was more annoyed at Logan for interrupting their make-out session to discuss the status of their relationship, or the fact he was probably right.

 

“And of course, the Society mascot Stosh Piznarski who is your ex-boyfriend.” That earned Logan another glare.

 

“And Piz, mild manner journalist who developed the ability to make himself grow or shrink after being exposed to Ray-X while writing a story. Who, yes, I went on a couple of dates with.” She gave another sigh. “Fine. Almost everyone in the society has known us in one way or another in our civilian identities and several of them have probably put two and two together.” He started to smirk. She continued.

 

“But, if we go out there right now and announce that we are dating, then all of them are going to want to have a discussion about whether or not fraternizing within the society should be allowed…”

 

“Most of them have already dated!”

 

“And whether or not give our own rather fraught dating history, having both us dating again puts the society at risk,” Logan huffed. “And even though they will undoubtedly realize that they can’t stop us from dating, that’s only going to come after a lot of discussion, and threats and debate. And then we definitely are not going to have time to have to get beyond second base today before you have to go back to the base.” Logan appeared to consider this a moment before finally come to a conclusion.

 

“Well, secrets are kinda hot, too.” She made the universal shrug of “I told you so,” then pulled him down for a kiss. He paused a second to do whatever mind magic thing he needed to make the top half of his uniform disappear (the tease) and then leaned in to start his ministrations once again.

 

Only to be interrupted but a loud banging on the door.

 

“Logan! Veronica! Put your clothes back on! We know this bathroom isn’t out of order and some of us have to pee!” 

 

Somewhere, deep within the Supershard there was a scream of pure unadulterated rage, then the sound of several large objects being crushed. 

 

It was followed by the sound of footsteps running away from their door and the quickly vanishing voice of the bang-y.

 

“Oh, for God sakes Duncan, you haven’t dated in years!” Veronica and Logan both gave a resigned sign. 

 

“I guess we should probably,” he nodded towards the door and re-appeared the top half of his uniform. She then gave her own disappointed nod, and hopped off the counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who commented (and kudoed)!


	3. Lord Logan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This snipped takes place a little bit prior to E & E.

The Halderman’s ball, the last before the London Season would empty Norton of the great deal of its society, seemed to be, by that society’s measure, a very good one. A great deal of the fashionable who were either residence or visitors to the area were attending, and even Lord Logan, in spite of the hostess, Georgianna Halderman being a particular friend of his former intended, had made an appearance.

 

Veronica Mars’s attendance, by contrast, seemed drew a somewhat less eager answer, from the host, the guests and herself.

 

From her position across the room, Veronica watched as a flock of girls dressed in the white dresses and overeager smiles of one new to society surrounded him, no doubt trying to seize on the Comtesses bad fortune, to gain the coup of catching a Baron as their husband in their first season.

 

Once Veronica would have thought him in his element, holding court over such an assemblage. Now he seemed decidedly awkward and uncomfortable.

 

Veronica heard the sounds indicating that the dancing was to commence again. Without truly considering it, she began to make her way through the crowd towards Lord Logan. His countenance suggested even more vexation when near than it had at a distance.

 

“I’m afraid I must interrupt,” She announced, drawing sharp glanced from the cluster of girls still between Lord Logan and herself, “For Lord Logan has already promised me the next two dances.” The glances turned to harsh glares.

 

She looked toward Lord Logan, challenging him to contradict her. Instead, he only showed obvious gratitude.

 

“I am afraid she is correct. I must leave you. A man is worth nothing, after all, if he does not keep his promises.” There were groans and sighs of disappointment, but Lord Logan managed to disentangled himself from his admirers and, taking Veronica’s arm, led her toward where the dancer were beginning to take their paces.

 

“Thank you.” He told to her smiling slightly, “I was afraid I might be forced to some desperate measure to extricate myself.”

 

“You are most welcome, but I admit more thinking of my dress than your comfort.”

 

“Your dress?” He asked, obviously amused.

 

“As grand as this room is, I fear it is not quite large enough to contain the struggle which would have ensued had those girls believed you would must choose among them for your next dance partner, at least not without the violence spreading to other parties. And blood is ever so hard to get out of muslin.” Logan gave a small laugh.

 

He paused, just before reaching the floor turning towards her.

 

“Now that such a cloth crisis is averted, you need not dance with me, if you do not wish.” He reassured her, seeming uncharacteristically unsure.

 

“On the contrary,” She replied, “If I leave the floor now, I fear your admirers would tear me to pieces when I exit the ballroom.”

 

“Very well then,” He said, moving them into their place in the line, “I suppose we must endure.” Sending her a sly smile, she found herself mirror.

 

The music started. They began to move through the figures, and she found herself searching for a topic on which to speak, as they were brought back together with each turn.

 

“I was surprised to see you in attendance.” She finally confessed.

 

“I could say the same.” He countered.

 

“As my charges’ invitation was tied to my own acquaintance with our hostess, my employer felt it necessary that I accompany them.” She told him, then raised her brown to encourage his own answer.

 

“Castleblanche had heard the Comtesse de Ville was to attend the ball.”

 

“Oh.” She felt slightly disappointed, although she could not place the precise reason. “I had heard your engagement had been called off.”

 

“And such breaks are always clean and removes all sentiment?” He countered. But his amusement seemed to fade, his voice drifting into something more like resignation, as he gave a sigh. “I may not wish to continue my romantic attachment to the Comtesse, but she is still a friend, and I cannot stand by and watch ----” he faltered slightly, then shaking his head seemed to come back to himself. “She has asked me to help her. To aid her in finding the strength to avoid certain vices. I could not turn my back on her, regardless of what else has passed between us.”

 

Veronica could only return a smile, somewhere between understanding and, perhaps, if she might be allowed, a bit proud.

 

The rest of the dance was passed in more easy conversation, ranging from the weather and teasing themselves for speaking on the weather, to several amusing anecdotes from the early trials in their respective professions. When the dance ended, Veronica allowed Lord Logan for her a cup of lemonade for her, and he had only just returned when a footman wearing the Halderman livery approach him and, whispering something to Lord Logan handed him a folded note. before disappearing back into the crowd.

 

Lord Logan looked towards Veronica, somewhat embarrassed, and gestured with the paper as a request for permission to read it. She nodded her consent, keeping her attention on her warm lemonade so as not to give in to the temptation to try to read over his shoulder.

 

As he read, however, the temptation was become progressively hard to resist as Lord Logan’s brow became progressively more furrowed. When he looked back up, she could not help but look at him expectantly.

 

“Is it to do with the war? Has something happened?” Lord Logan gave her a somewhat watery, encouraging smile and shook his head.

 

“No, nothing of that sort.” He paused a moment in consideration before continuing. “It is from Caroline.”

 

He then did something most unexpected. He gave her the note.

 

“I do not think...” She hesitated.

 

“Please. Look at it, I would like your opinion.”

 

Written on the paper was what seemed a confession that the Comtesse had given in to weakness following by a plea to Lord Logan to meet her along the Promenade. The writing was somewhat broken, as if the writer had started and stopped repeatedly from letter to letter unsure whether to continue or not.

 

“It is unusual,” Lord Logan admitted, “But if it is the truth. If Caroline is there and needs my help…”

 

“You must go.” Veronica told him, resigned. He gave her another watery smile.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Before he moved away, however, he turned back to her with a genuine smile. “I had been looking forward to a second dance.” He told her.

 

“Perhaps later.” She told him. His smile spread.

 

“Perhaps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has reviewed or kudoed! I'm sorry I haven't had the chance yet to respond individually! I would really appreciated any comment or critique you could give. 
> 
> Thanks.


	4. Logan [Unknown]

“Okay, then I choose Veronica.” 

 

The terrifying supernatural creature stared at Logan like he had suddenly grown a second head. Or maybe not since that was probably relatively normal for it. 

 

“Wait –what?”

 

“I said, I choose Veronica.”

 

It continued to stare. Logan sighed.

 

“You said, that I get to choose between my mortal and my other half…”

 

“I did not…”

 

“You said that once I fully embrace my other half, I wouldn’t be able to be with a mortal woman. That implies a choice.” 

 

It looked perplexed. 

 

“So, if I get to choose between my mortal and other half, and if, if I choose my other half I can’t be with Veronica, then I choose my mortal half. I choose Veronica. 

 

“But you would have be virtually immortal.”

 

“I got that.”

 

“And you would have been incredibly powerful.”

 

“I got that too. And honestly? I’m not really very good with power anyway.” 

 

“But, then, you’d be a mortal. Always.”

 

“That’s the idea.” 

 

There was more staring. 

 

“I don’t understand.” 

 

Logan sighed. Again. And tried, very hard, to keep in mind that mouthing off to a being that could literally control his fate was a bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who had comment and kudoed! I'm sorry this one is so short.


	5. Logan Leister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little late I know, and because this took so long to get up the next chapter is going to be late too, but hopefully that just means you get to enjoy LV AU week a little longer.

“So, you’re okay then?” Wallace asked her, his voice sounding annoyingly concerned. When she had left her apartment today and decided to call Wallace on her way to class, she had been running early. But a few minutes of conversation, and a few hick-ups in in morning commute was slowly eroding her bumper time.

 

“Yes, I’m okay. Of course I’m okay. I’m the one who broke up with Seth, remember.” Glancing at her watch she sped up a little as she attempted to navigated around an especially slow walker right in front of her. 

 

“Well, yeah, but…”

 

“But what?” Stupid couples holding hand. Other people need the sidewalk. 

 

“Its five in the morning Veronica.”

 

“Oh God.” Veronica cringed. “I forgot the time difference.” 

 

“So, you still keeping with that okay?” Veronica rolled her eyes, shifting slightly in the flow of the crowd so she could turn down towards her personal choice of short cuts. 

 

“Its not.” Veronica paused, preemptively embarrassed by what she was about to say. “Look, I know that I’m about to sound like one of girls I used to mock in high school. But,” She sighed, resigned to her embarrassment, “I don’t have a date to the Barrister’s Ball this weekend.” 

 

“Which I’m sure I will absolutely find worth missing my last hour of sleep. Once you tell me what it is.”

 

“It’s the law school’s annual dance. Like prom, but with more booze and condensation.” 

 

“So exactly like prom. At least for rich kids of our High School who put on their own after our real one canceled?” 

 

“Pretty much.” 

 

“And you want to go?” 

 

“Social networking can be just as important, if not more, as the actual classwork, in finding a job after law school.” 

 

She could hear Wallace’s doubtful look over the phone. 

 

“And I’ve heard if you play your cards right, I’ve you can witness years worth of blackmail in just one night.”

 

“Now that the Veronica I know and have learned to fear.” Wallace teased. “So, what’s the problem. Can’t you just go stag?” Veronica let out another sigh. And finally decided just to duck under the hands of the most recent couple that had maneuvered in front of her. They didn’t look pleased.

 

“If I went there without a date then I’d have to actually talk with my classmate all night. Plus, half the fun is being able to snark about everyone else with someone.” 

 

“Well, if is snark you want…” 

 

“What?” She asked cautiously. 

 

“I could see if my old roommate could go. He always seems to be complaining about finding a date to some formal thing at the last minute anyway, I’m sure he’d understand. Maybe you could help each other out, be his date another time.” 

 

“Wallace, I know you’ve spent most of the last decade on the west coast, but Norfolk, Virginia and New York City aren’t actually near to each other.” 

 

“Really? Then it’s a good Logan’s on leave and visiting family in New York City this week.”

 

“And he would want to spend some this visit taking me to law school prom? Instead of, you know, actually being with his family.” She countered.

 

“Veronica, I know that you and your Dad are scary close but for most of us, a week strait with our family is a bit much. And like I said, maybe you could help each other out, figure out a way to go with him to something in the future. “ 

 

Veronica finally pushed through the crowd to reach the front of the Green Hall. The continual flow of students and other pedestrians made it more of less impossible to actually stop in order to continue the conversation, even if she wasn’t now almost running late. 

 

“You know what, sure. If he wants to watch law schools make fools of themselves in exchange for free food, that’s great. I’ll send you the information.” Then she ended the call before she could change her mind. 

 

This was good. This could be good.

 

***

 

This was not good. 

 

It turned out Wallace’s friend was incredibly punctual. Like, if you’re early your on-time kind of punctual. She was barely out of the shower when the doorbell rang and she ended up meeting the man who had been the deuteragonist in virtually all of her best friends’ anecdotes for more than half a decade wearing a towel. 

 

Logan Leister was a man with slightly better than average height, much better than average shoulders and a deer caught in the headlight expression on his angular but not quite conventionally handsome face. At least when she answered the door.

 

He was also wearing a t-shirt, jeans and a leather jacket. 

 

“The ball is formal.”. To his credit, he only gave a mildly pointed look to point out her own state of undress before lifting up the garment bag he held in one hand. 

 

“I thought I could finish getting ready here?” Right. Because this wasn’t a first date. It was two friends going to a formal event. Two friends, who had never actually met in person. One of whom had really great shoulders. And one of whom…

 

“Right, Sorry. Come on in.” She stepped out of the way so he could do just that, and she could stop giving her creeping neighbor down the hall a peep show. “I’ll just,” She gestured toward herself, then back towards her bathroom.” 

 

“Right.” Logan’s eyes darted around her small apartment and she suddenly felt more exposed than she had standing in the hallway in a towel. Her money and time of late had all been funneled into either classwork or luxuries like feeding and clothing herself, rather than cleaning or decorating.

 

“Is there someplace I could wash-up?” He finally asked. 

 

“There only one bathroom.” Which she wasn’t embarrassed of. She had found an apartment. With an actual bedroom and bathroom. That were separate from the living room. That she could actually afford. In New York that was practically a miracle. 

 

“Oh. I’ll just…” He started looking around again and her sense of self preservation finally kick in. 

 

“Why don’t you wash up first, I can start getting ready out here. Then you can change out here while I finish.” 

 

“I don’t want to kick you out of your own bathroom.”

 

“Please, you’re doing me a favor, remember? Let me just get what I need.” 

 

She came back few minutes later now wearing a robe and carrying a slightly random armful of makeup and hair accessories along with her hair dryer. 

 

“Thanks.” He darted back towards the only direction that a bathroom could be in her shoebox of an apartment, leaving her to contemplated whether it would be worth it to try to stuff the accumulated flotsam of her life in her tiny front closet, given that he’d already pretty much seen it all already. 

 

***

 

He was not kidding about being quick. She had only just come to the conclusion that she did not have a single plug in the living room/ kitchen/ everything else that was not bedroom or bath that both worked and was free to plug the dryer into when he came out of the bathroom. 

 

Shirtless.

 

“Owww.” She hopped a little. “Owww.” 

 

“Are you okay?” 

 

“Yes. Yes. I’m fine, I just dropped my hairdryer. On my foot. But I’m fine. I’ll just…” She gathered her trappings back up along with what was left of her dignity and hurried into her bathroom. 

 

***

 

She felt good. 

 

Her hair was coiffed. Her dress was great. Her shoes were cute. 

 

Whatever spirit of clumsy romantic comedy heroines past had possessed her a few minutes ago was firmly banished. 

 

She exited the bathroom with her confidence and calm back in place and but was still relieved somewhat to see that Logan was now dressed. 

 

In his uniform. Which… wow.

 

But at least she wasn’t the only one giving appreciative looks.

 

“You look great.” 

 

“Thanks.” See, cool as a cucumber.

 

“I’ve, uh, got something for you.” Logan reached back into the smaller bag he’d brought, and pulled out a clear plastic box.

 

“A corsage?” Logan gave a slightly embarrassed shrug.

 

“Wallace said it was kind of like the prom?” 

 

“Sort of.”

 

“And he may have mentioned that you didn’t to go to your real prom. And do all the Prom stuff before.” 

 

“Really. Did he.” Logan moved back slightly. 

 

“I can put it back…” 

 

“Don’t you dare.” She warned him, then motioned to bring the flowery thing to her. “Gimme Gimme.” That got her a laugh. He brought it over and, after freeing it from its plastic bubbled helped her put it on her wrist. 

 

“I thought with a wrist corsage, even if I didn’t get the color quite right it wouldn’t be as glaringly obvious.” He confessed.

 

“Smart and considerate. Maybe Wallace didn’t oversell you.” 

 

“I live to serve.” 

 

True to his word (and Wallace’s description of his chivalric streak), he even helped her into her coat. Which actually demonstrated that downside to a wrist corsage, but she’d let it pass.

 

“Ready?” With a nod, they headed out.

 

***

 

The Ball was at Pier 60, which, aside from a view of the city’s skyline, also gave her the opportunity to joke they were almost in his element. This in turn prompted a discussion of the difference between a sailor and an aviator which carried them through the awkward time at the start of the evening when everyone arriving.

 

“So, when does the blackmail material start?” He whispered as dribs and drab of arrivals began forming clusters to talk make small talk.

 

“Wallace told you about that, huh?” 

 

“It was a key part of his pitch.” He reassured her. 

 

“Well, most people start off wanting to make a good impression, so the booze wont' really start to flow until after dinner.”

 

“Dinner and a show?” He said, affecting a slightly indeterminant accent. “You law student sure do know how to woo a fella.” 

 

“I try.” 

 

“So, what do we do until then.” 

 

“Well, I probably should do some mingling.” She told him, gesturing at the increasing number of groups around the room. 

 

“And what are we going to be?” 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Are we going to keep with the truth, that I’m a friend of a friend that came through at the last minute, or are we coming up with something better?” 

 

Veronica just turned to him, and smiled.

 

***

 

It was stupid. 

 

She knew it was stupid. 

 

She would, in all likelihood have to work with most of these people in future. She would definitely have to see them in class on Monday. 

 

But it was also fun. 

 

And Veronica hadn’t had fun in too damn long. 

 

So, Logan was: her childhood friends and high school sweetheart who had returned from war to express his ever-lasting love for her. A whirlwind romance. The loser of a bet. The winner of a bet. Part of a publicity stunt for the upcoming Fleet Week. The incarnation of her soulmate from another life. An escort whose uniform was a cleverly crafted tear away. And her fiancé that she had of course mentioned before, Jenny. 

 

By the time Dinner was served. Veronica was fairly certain all of the couples at their table had heard at more than one of the different versions now circling around about their relationship and all but the two or three she was actually friends with were looking at them funny. 

 

Logan called her sugarpuss, bobcat and ma’am at various points throughout the meal. 

 

Veronica pretended like everyone knew what was going on and acted like everything was normal which only seemed to confuse people more. 

 

Dessert was served. 

 

The music started. 

 

And then even more fun began.

 

***

 

“I’ll! Be! Your crying shoulder!”

 

“How can he not realize that this isn’t karaoke?” 

 

“Shhh, you’ll ruin the audio.”

 

“I mean there isn’t even a microphone.”

 

“Shhh.”

 

***

 

The fun had included puking, crying, and a plethora of soon to be regretted statements and declarations. And that was just the professors.

 

By the time the music was stopped and everyone was told to head out, she and Logan were one of only a handful of couples still on the floor. 

 

They both should have just headed home, but instead they had apparently re-entered the rom-com from earlier in the night and ended up wandering around the city just talking. 

 

Really.

 

They had already covered music and weather as well as more important questions like their respective opinions over what is the best pizza in New York and the best ice cream in Neptune.

 

“So, why a naval aviator?” Professions seemed the next logical step.

 

“The short answer is, my grandfather was a pilot.”

 

“The one who raised you?” 

 

“Yes and no.” He said after a moment. “My mom, she had always wanted to be an actress. She had had some early success, even got hired to be in a movie that was supposed to be a pretty big deal, but then she got pregnant with me, and they recast her. After that, the roles sort of just dried up. For a while, she tried to go the New York, Theater route instead, but the best she ever got was some really off off-Broadway plays, and into a couple of touring companies. So, she traveled a lot, either for work or looking for work and I ended up being dropped off at my grandparents.” He shrugged.

 

“But she was still my mom. And she did try when she was there. When she died, I was pretty messed up for a while. My grandfather, even though he was dealing with a hell of a lot himself then, well he figured out a way to get through to me, and helped me straighten out. So, when I was trying to decide what to do with my life, it seemed like he pretty good set of footsteps to follow in.” 

 

She gave him a watery look and he laughed a little, slightly embarrassed. 

 

“Sorry --- lamest recruiting script ever. Take tour: I wanted a badass flight suit and a chance to reduce architectural treasures of the ancient world to smoking rubble.” That got an eyeroll.

 

“Do you like it?”

 

“God yes.” He said, giving her a real smile. “Flying is, well flying’s amazing. But its more than that. It’s a chance to do really do something, to have a purpose, you know?” She nodded. She did. Just not right now.

 

“I wish I felt like that.” He looked at her, slightly surprised. Whether it was because he had been given the impression, she loved law school, or simply that she was not the most emotional open person, she wasn’t sure. She was sort of surprised herself.

 

“Law school not your calling?” 

 

She should have given a quip and steered the conversation in a different direction. Made it a joke and been done with it. Maybe it was because of the few drinks she had had at the ball. Maybe it was the warm, slightly pleasant feeling of exhaustion she had that only came from a late night actually something you enjoyed. Maybe it was just that she wouldn’t be answerable to Logan in the morning for whatever she said. 

 

“Honestly? It kind of bores the shit out of me.” 

 

Logan gave a something between a huff and a snort.

 

“I thought I would like it. Or at least I thought I should like it? If that makes sense., I don’t know, maybe it would be different if I was studying criminal law.” She shook her head, “But I also think in some ways that would be worse. Like going to the beach when you have a cast on. You can see what you want to be doing. Smell it even, but its just out of your reach.” 

 

“And what you want to be doing is…” She let out a long breath. She had passed the point of quip return now, she suspected, so she might as well plow ahead.

 

“Did Wallace ever tell you why my Dad’s a PI?” 

 

“He’s mentioned it.” She suspected he had done more than mention. It was pretty impossible to tell the story of the Mars family, or Neptune really --- at least Neptune as she and Wallace knew it --- without doing so.

 

“After, well, that, after my Dad lost his job as Sheriff and started Mars Investigations, I worked for him, for a while. At first it was just doing clerical stuff but then, as time went on, I started working on cases. But it became, I don’t know, almost like addiction. I couldn’t let go. Even when it hurt the people around me. So, I quit. Cold turkey. Went up to Stanford for college and told myself I would never take a case again.”

 

“But you did?”

 

“Nope. But I wanted to. And I still want to. That’s why I couldn’t go into criminal law.” 

 

“So, what are you going to do?” 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“Well, are you really going to do something that you hate for the rest of your life?” 

 

It was a good question. One she had been avoiding for most of the last year. 

 

The only answer she could give was to shrug.

 

***

 

They didn’t fall into bed with each other.

 

But they did have breakfast together at the one deli they could both agree on. 

 

And she told him to she’d be coming with him to his next formal event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented or kudoed. I haven't really had time this week to respond individually I know, but I really do appreciate and love any kind of comment or critique. 
> 
>  
> 
> And yes: Seth was the name of the FBI guy that Veronica dated in the never produced s4 pilot.

**Author's Note:**

> The name Logan comes from the surname Logan which (according to one interpretation of its origins) comes from lagan which in turn is a diminutive of lag meaning hollow.


End file.
